


Bad Penny

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, F/M, No Sex, Relief, Romance, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: A season six imagining, tagging on the promo. Worked with what we were given, knowing that any of the promo elements could be misleading and out of time sequence. Mostly imagining how to get to the undocumented end, Jane and Lisbon's reconciliation. One-shot. A very, very mild 'T,' I would think. NO SEX. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.Posted first at FFnet on August 30, 2013, now here with edits for readability.AU now that we have season six in canon.





	

Every minute that passed ticked her name as it sank in, what he'd done, what he'd lost. No, what he'd thrown away forever. How she'd looked at him refusing to trust her, refusing to follow her lead.  


"Oh, come on. You're out of your depth!" How could he have said such a thing? He was so upset, so worried about what she was walking into, he ended up all but telling her she wasn't smart enough to decide how to hunt for Red John. Humiliating her in front of another member of the team she headed. It was unforgivable, even for a civilian. But they had a real lead on one of the suspects, and her "sound law enforcement principles" would blow the whole thing! Couldn't she see that?  


Teresa Lisbon hadn't wasted time with the pain, with grieving his betrayal. Just a cold stare, a moment that said everything, and she turned, taking Van Pelt with her and leaving him behind.  


He'd never dreamed she would leave him, the car trailing a cloud of white dust from the gravel parking lot as he'd chased it, stranding him at the diner in the desert. He'd even caught up with her car and slapped the body. And she wouldn't stop. Maybe she didn't hear it over the crackling gravel. Couldn't she see him in the rear view mirror, chasing forgiveness, a chance to take back his horrible words? Now she was alone, without his protection. Without her partner. The partner who had let her down. He'd botched everything and driven her off. She was alone, chasing Red John with 'sound law enforcement principles.' If Red John could predict and counteract anything, he could predict _that._  


Lisbon was fuming. The rotten bastard! They were partners! The idiot had no idea what that meant. None!  


There was no way she could have her leadership of the team openly questioned by one of its members like that. No matter if it was the great and all-knowing, all-seeing Patrick Jane. The past few months, his behavior and attitude had changed so much. He knew what she needed from him as a partner, and he had done his best to live up to it. They were finally beginning to fit hand in glove! And he had tossed it away in an overwrought moment.  


What could you expect from a civilian consultant? Sure, he was brilliant and she'd learned a lot from him. He should have been learning from her!  


How dare he humiliate her in front of Van Pelt! God damned Red John. Jane wasn't rational when it came to the serial killer. His emotions short-circuited his brain. He couldn't be trusted, but he would trust no one but himself no matter how impaired his thinking. Let him stew in the desert heat! Let the dry dust settle on his tongue and choke some sense into him. She would run the investigation and the hunt according to sound law enforcement principles and her own good police sense.  


So many phone calls dying in her voice mail, Jane was desperately jerking his lifeline to her but only reeling in rope. He deserved to be punished, deserved to feel who he was without her. Alone. She didn't need him. He needed her. He felt bereft without her regard, without her support, without her company. It was as if part of his body had been removed, severed when she dragged them apart with her car.  


After the shock, the panic had set in. She was going after Red John her own way. His only option was to get to the serial killer first! It was the only way to protect her. He cursed himself for the delay he'd brought on himself. It would take hours to return to CBI, the surest way of catching up with her if she would not take his calls. No matter how long it took, he had to work on getting there. Now!  


Jane called Cho and Rigsby. Lisbon had already contacted them and told them not to give him any information.  


"What's going on, man? Boss is pissed at you! We can't tell you anything," Rigsby said. You'd better get back to the bullpen or your attic and just chill until she gets to you."  


"Yeah. I was a real ass, out of control. But she's taking risks without knowing what she's getting into."  


"Don't you worry about Lisbon, Jane," Cho had said. "She's a trained law enforcement officer. She can take care of herself better than you can. We trust her. Now, get your ass in here and park it till she says move it."  


"I'm trying. But she dumped me here in the desert. Any chance you guys can come get me?"  


"No way!" they hollered in unison over the speakerphone. Cho continued, "Boss made it clear she wanted you out of the way as long as possible. Besides, she wants us to follow up on something else, and we're heading out now."  


"Yeah. Good luck, buddy," said Rigsby.  


Luck. He'd run out. Jane returned to the diner. His next priority was a ride back to Sacramento, even if it had to be by bus. Maybe he could pay someone in the diner to take him. Otherwise, he'd be hitchhiking. Lisbon had fixed his wagon but good.  


After instructing Cho on what to do if Jane contacted Rigsby or him, Lisbon summed up where they were in the investigation and gave the pair an assignment to pursue. Taking care of these loose ends gave her something to do and helped her to calm down. Then she turned her attention to Van Pelt, who had not uttered a word and sat rod-straight and staring fixedly ahead in the passenger seat. The younger agent's shock was apparent.  


"Van Pelt. Gra—"  


"Yes, Boss," she said too quickly.  


"I'm sorry you had to see that. It was a disagreement that should have been held in private."  


"It's okay, Boss. Jane was wrong to say that. You're the best. He should listen to you."  


"Thanks for your confidence in me, Grace. I appreciate that. We all know how irrational he can be when it comes to Red John. Especially when he thinks he's getting close. I don't want you to think this in any way diminishes my regard for him as a person. I wish there had been another choice than to leave him behind like that. We both know he'll be able to get himself back just fine. But given the circumstances and the time pressure we're under, he could not continue on this part of the investigation. At least not today"  


"Not ever! He doesn't trust you, Boss! He wants to be in charge. No way!"  


"I don't think that's really true, but Jane has strong opinions about what to do and good reasons for feeling as strongly as he does, especially about Red John. Temper and emotion are too high to make a decision about that now. I'm the team leader. He has a lot of great ideas and strategies that help us every day. But anyone on my team has to accept my leadership if they want to stay. If I see someone can't do that, I'll be the first to cut him loose."  


"But, Boss. How he talked to you . . . "  


"Think about it, Grace. What he did was express his opinion, inexpertly but truthfully, in the heat of the moment. It should have been handled in a private discussion, but it didn't happen that way. It was very uncomfortable. For all of us. But I rely on each of you to give me your truthful opinions on any investigation. It's critical, and don't ever forget that. There's a time for discussion. After that, we move on my direction. Don't ever be afraid to speak up. Even if you do it as inexpertly as Jane did just now. It may force each of us to a decision we might not want to face. But this is the job, Grace. This is what it means to lead. Sometimes it's not pretty."  


"But, you're going to at least talk to him . . . "  


"I know you don't need me to answer that question. And that's a personnel matter, Van Pelt. Not something I'm prepared to discuss with you."  


"Yes, Boss."  


"And Grace . . . "  


The agent turned towards her.  


"Thank you for your loyalty. It does you credit."  


Van Pelt smiled and gave Lisbon a nod, relaxing into her seat, watching the scenery roll by the windows and did not offer any comment or conversation. She knew Boss needed her thinking time.  


Recovered from her initial fury at Jane's confrontation and cutting remarks, Lisbon was processing the whole incident. He had crossed a line she would have to respond to, but privately. Until then, he was safely out of the way for several hours at least.  


Lisbon was very aware what a complex relationship she and Jane had developed. Examining the issue from his point of view, she recognized the difficulty of being partners with a team leader, a leader who was also your employer and for whom you had strong personal feelings. Yes. It was not always clear how deep those feelings went. What he might not be feeling, she certainly made up for on her side, if she was being honest and she needed to be so right now. But law enforcement work was life and death, no room for doubting your partner. No room to disregard leadership. Best to work separately when intractable disagreements arose, until they could be settled.  


If Jane had expressed his real opinion, and not just spoken in the heat of emotion, she would have to let him go. Taking him off the Red John case would not be sufficient. If he were a part of the team, he would find a way to involve himself, purloin the case files and who knew what else. She felt surprisingly calm as she thought it through. The ball would be in Jane's court. They could genuinely use his help on this and other cases, if he could still handle the job.  


That was Lisbon's professional mind at work. The part of her that was deeply in love with Patrick Jane, and thought that they might have a shot at happiness together when Red John ceased to be a factor, was sinking in pain and sadness.  


Lisbon and Van Pelt arrived at their destination. The front door creaked open when they'd knocked. It gave them probable cause to enter and investigate. They silently split up to check that it was clear. The house was long deserted, dilapidated inside, bits of things broken and left behind stuck to the dirt on the floor, accumulating dust for who know how long. Lisbon crept down the narrow hallway with her flashlight. No one was in this part of the house. Making her way back to the living room where they had entered, she called "Clear," and heard Van Pelt answer the same as she made her way back. No news here. For the first time since leaving him, Lisbon wished Jane was here to take a look. Chances were he'd spot something useful. Instead she decided the two of them would make another slower, more deliberate search. They still found nothing.  


"I'm going to work in my office, Van Pelt. When we get back, you go on to lunch."  


That's where she had found Red John's latest victim, signaled by the bloody smiley on a plate glass window at the bullpen. Jesus, it looked fresh! And she could smell blood on the air. Heavy, warm, close. Peeking through the window just long enough to glimpse the bloody corpse, she made the call to mobilize the various units needed to process the crime scene and obtain back up. Until then she needed to guard the scene. Her senses sang high alert. Red John could still be in the eerily deserted agency building.  


The scene when Jane arrived at CBI was chaos. He first noticed the eerie flashes of red and blue light, bouncing off of the surrounding buildings as he approached. Cop cars at a crime scene in the CBI? Lisbon! He rounded a corner for worse news. Not a cop car, an ambulance! Terror shot a hot cannonball into his belly where it sat cooking and curdling his guts. Hand going into his pocket automatically for his phone, he thumbed her entry. No voice mail! He urged her with every cell to pick up. What he heard instead was Red John's voice.  


"I'm sorry, Patrick, but Tereza can't come to the phone right now . . . "  


Something blinding flashed behind his eyes and panic propelled his legs. The universe seemed to open up a hole for him and he was past the milling agents and law enforcement before they knew he had gone. Not bothering with the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time, three when he could manage it. Rounding the corner to the bullpen, mouth gaping as it tried to funnel enough air for his need, Patrick came face to face with her.  


His Lisbon, eyes wide in her own terror of who was coming around the corner, gun trained, saw Jane.  


His voice in an upper register of tears and want, he called her name in his anguish, "Lisbon!"  


They stared at one another, breath suspended in wonder, before she lowered her gun and Jane threw himself into her open arms, scooping her to his chest and then to every part of his body that could touch her in their impossible embrace. Tears streaming from his face, he said her name over and over, trying to take in the reality of the woman in his arms. Faintly he began to hear his own name, but not Jane. Soft and full of her breath, Lisbon whispered over and over, "Patrick," as she tried to hold onto him, meet his demands for physical reassurance and her need to be as close everywhere as they could touch. She could feel something of Jane press firm against her abdomen and registered it not as lust but as joy and it matched her own relief and pleasure to see him.  


In a few moments, he took a deep, shuddering breath, turned his face to her neck and pressed his lips there in a kiss he almost couldn't release. Lisbon brought up her hand to caress the side of his face, comforting him and he slowly let her go. Jane watched her wipe her eyes, knowing she would have to face other agents and officers. He followed her lead and wiped his face.  


"You're the boss," he croaked out, his tears starting again. Looking into her eyes, he said it once more, wiping tears from his face, "You're the boss." Then he looked down at his feet and whispered again, loudly, "You're the boss. Don't leave me, Lisbon." It was all he could manage. But it was enough. Lisbon brushed her hand up and down his arm to help him calm down.


End file.
